Track : Tucson, Arizona (Gazette)
Artist : Dan Fogelberg
Album : Windows And Walls
80s folk soft rock west coast My pop music Tucson, Arizona (Gazette) by Dan Fogelberg from album Windows And Walls
Duration : 8 minutes & 35 seconds.
Listener : 3512 peoples.
Played : 12386 times and counting.
Tucson, Arizona
Rising in the heat
Like a mirage
Tony keeps his Chevy
Like a virgin
Locked in his garage
He brings it out at midnight
And cruises down
The empty boulevards
And he prowls
The darkened alleys
That snake between
The city's thirsty yards
The lonely desert skies
Reflect the anger in his eyes
And it is dawn
His father died of drinking
And left five children sinking
With his mom
His older brother Bobby
Never made it back
From Vietnam
With high school well behind him
He lives at home and
Works this shitty job
And he thinks his '60 Chevy
Is the only true amigo
That he's got
His heart is filled with sadness
And his soul is like
Some ugly vacant lot
Mary Estelle Hanna
Come out from Louisiana
For the sun
A deal gone bad in Dallas
Left her burned and broke
And on the run
To make the rent and groceries
She takes this job at
$3.15 an hour
Serving shots of whiskey
and tequila
In some smoky red-neck bar
And she dreams some day
She'll make her way to L.A.
And become a movie star
Tony saw her working
He swallowed hard and
Asked her for a date
Mary laughed and answered
"I would but every night
I'm working late"
He said he had some cocaine
That she could have
If she'd just ride along
She said, "What the hell
I may as well
I haven't had no fun
In so damn long"
He picked her up at closing time
They pulled out on the road
And they were gone
Tony's mom got frantic
When she found her son
Had not come home
Mary's roommate panicked
And called the sheriff
From a public phone
They asked her lots of questions
She tried her best to tell
Them what she saw
And late that night
They found poor Mary
Lying in some narrow, dusty draw
And the coroner reported
That she hadn't been
Deceased for very long
Two weeks on they found it
Buried to the windshield
In the sand
There inside lay Tony
With a small revolver
In his hand
The papers simply stated
It must have been the
Drugs that drove him mad
The neighbors speculated
What could make a good boy
Go so bad?
Well, it might have been
The desert heat
It might have been the
Home he never had